by Eva Brandt
My aunt’s warning flashed through my mind, the reasons for her wariness becoming far clearer. I wasn’t deterred. As terrifying as Dahud’s power might be, I knew I needed to act now, or else my nightmares would come true and something horrible would happen.
There was no time to go get help, and even if we’d wanted to try, we probably couldn’t have made it past Dahud, as she was blocking the way back. It was up to me—to us—to figure out what was wrong and save her.
Halvar and Thrandur had the same idea, as they were already attempting to force their way through the angry swirls of mystical energy still lashing out at us. We didn’t have much luck. My aunt’s pendant pulsed against my skin, but while it protected me from the hostile power, it could not help me overcome the immensity of Dahud’s magic.
When the waves of the ocean swept over the beach, dangerously close to where we were, we found ourselves forced to take refuge behind the very same rock Halvar and Thrandur had used earlier. Dahud couldn’t do the same, and she was left unprotected, at the mercy of the angry elements she herself had summoned.
“At this rate, she’s going to be swallowed up by the water,” Halvar shouted, still shielding his head from the downpour and increasingly larger hailstones. “We need to get to her.”
“That’s obvious, Halvar, but how?” Thrandur asked.
A few seconds passed, during which the three of us stared at one another, helpless, aware that no matter how hard we tried, we could not get close enough to Dahud to save her. And then, just as I was beginning to lose hope, the chaotic outburst of magic died out. Dahud suddenly stilled, her body going limp and the golden strings of angry light around her dissipating into shadow. The storm stopped just as abruptly as it had started and the ocean retreated.
I would have been ecstatic about it had I not realized the possible reasons for this deceptive calm. Spurred on by panic and desperation, I returned to Dahud’s side, with Halvar and Thrandur following right behind me.
When we knelt next to her, it took only a few seconds for me to confirm my worst fears. Halvar cursed under his breath, having noticed the same thing I had. “She isn’t breathing and her heart has stopped. Gods be damned.”
“Must be some kind of magical backlash.” I clenched my jaw, my mind whirling as I struggled to come up with a solution. “It’s not over yet. I won’t give up.”
I’d seen my aunt give aid to wounded people before, and she had taught me a few bits and pieces she had felt I might need. My memories of those lessons were hazy and the technique might not even apply to our situation, but I had to try.
Praying to every single god in existence that this would work, I rolled her onto her back and pressed my hands to her chest. As I interlocked my fingers and started to perform compressions, my world became focused on one simple goal, to get her heart to start beating again. When I pressed my mouth to hers, trying to force air into her lungs, I willed her to open her eyes, to look at me again, to speak to us and laugh, even if it was to mock us or decry us for daring to touch her.
“The dress,” Thrandur gasped out by my side. “Is it hindering you?”
I didn’t have a clue. In the past, when my aunt had demonstrated the process, it had been on people wearing clothes, but she had mentioned that thick garments could get in the way. As far as I could tell, the material was thin enough to not be a problem, but I could be wrong.
The thought of disrobing her while she was in such a state made my stomach turn, as the last thing I wanted to do was take advantage of her. But this was not about anything sensual, and if there was even the slightest chance that the garment might be an issue, it needed to go.
Thrandur already had his dagger out before I could provide an answer and offered it to me, hilt first. I quickly snatched the weapon and used it to slice through the material of Dahud’s gown. Once the cloth was out of the way, I went back to what I had been doing before, unable to bear the thought that the coldness of her skin might be permanent.
This couldn’t be happening. This couldn’t be real. Not five minutes ago, she had been fine, talking to us, and now, she was dead? No. I refused to accept that fate.
“Come on, Dahud,” Halvar murmured. “Come on. Don’t do this, not when we still have so much to ask you.”
“You’re a seiðkona,” Thrandur hissed. “You’re a warrior. You’re stronger than this. Come on.”
Maybe Dahud heard them, or maybe my efforts had the desired effect, because her pale skin began to glow once again. She took a deep breath, and her eyes shot open. She blinked several times as if trying to clear her vision. It must have worked, because when she spoke again, she sounded perfectly calm. “I hope you have a good explanation for why you’re on top of me and I’m half-naked.”
My breath caught as I realized that in my shock over her recovery, I had not remembered to pull away, and I was still touching her bare chest, almost cupping her breasts in my palms. Instantly, I snatched my hands away, horrified at my own behavior. Thrandur and Halvar stepped back as well, giving her room to compose herself.
Dahud shielded her bare breasts with one pale arm, still watching us with that fierce, intense gaze. “Well? I’m waiting.”
She didn’t seem to remember what had happened at all. Would she believe us if we explained? I had no clue, but we needed to try.
“I was trying to provide medical assistance for you, Your Highness. There was an incident caused by your unique abilities and your heart—”
“Stop talking,” she suddenly cut me off, curling around her knees in a defensive pose that didn’t suit her earlier confident behavior at all. “I need to think.”
“But Princess, you might still be injured!” Thrandur protested. “We should get someone to—”
Dahud interrupted him too. “You aren’t getting anyone. And in case I wasn’t clear enough, yes, that is an order.”
I agreed with him, and I definitely wanted her to get a real healer to look her over. But she would obviously not cooperate and I had a feeling that if we tried to go against her wishes, the situation would escalate even further.
Left with no other option, we fell silent. As befuddled as I was by Dahud’s conflicting words, I thought that in a way, her actions made sense. It must have been terrifying for her to wake up to something like this. Regardless of my intentions, the fact remained that I had touched her in an indecent manner, and as a princess, she would be entitled to ask for my execution if she did not deem my gesture appropriate. On the other hand, if anyone found out about what had occurred here, she might be dishonored.
I would have never dared to dangle the threat of this incident over her head, but she might not want to take the chance. What would she decide?
After what seemed like forever, Dahud looked up at us, her eyes glinting with an indiscernible emotion. “You saved my life,” she finally said as she got up. “Didn’t you.”
The supposed question came out as a statement, and I couldn’t have denied it if I’d wanted to. “Yes, Your Highness.”
She nodded and smoothed the top of her gown with her hand. The material I’d sliced through mended itself. The sand and sea water that had gotten all over her dress dissipated. “You need to go. My mother would have sensed the disturbance and she is likely headed this way as we speak. We will talk again at a different time.”
“Yes, Your Highness,” I said, with Thrandur and Halvar echoing me.
When we did nothing except stare and provide our agreement to her words, she arched a perfectly defined dark brow at us. At that, I processed the warning she had given us and scrambled to stand. “With your permission, Your Highness, we’ll take our leave.”
She turned her back on us and said nothing. We headed back the way we’d come, toward the tents that were supposed to provide us with shelter while we were in Ys.
I had no idea what had just happened and what we’d just seen, but I did know one thing. Tonight, everything had changed. Time would tell if that was a good thing, or if it would confir
m my aunt’s fears and my nightmares.
Plans and Secrets
Dahud
“You should not have risked your health in such a way, Dahud. What if you’d caught an illness? Or what if someone had ambushed you when you were without a guard? What were you thinking? How could you possibly leave the palace like this?”
I lay on my bed and stared at the ceiling of my room, barely able to process my mother’s rant. She had been going over the same points ever since we had returned home from the beach. Without a doubt, she would proceed to once again reiterate how stupid I had been to use magic in an unsupervised, open setting.
“And what if someone had seen you practice?” she asked, as if on cue. “It would have been a disaster.”
I doubted it would’ve mattered that much, since like Prince Thrandur had said, it wasn’t unusual for practitioners of the magical arts to teach their daughters their ways. Everyone in Kerys was aware of my mother’s nature, so my mystical skills wouldn’t have been so surprising. I’d always tried to be discreet, but I’d had other reasons for that. And right now, those reasons also urged me to speak out.
“Mother,” I said, getting up on my haunches and meeting her gaze, “tell me something and be perfectly honest with me. Why can’t I feel?”
I should have approached the topic with her much sooner. I realized that now. I hadn’t, because I’d never deemed it that relevant to my goals. My anomaly wouldn’t have kept me from being the queen Kerys needed. If anything, the opposite was the case. Rulers didn’t need to feel. They needed to think. Emotions clouded logic, and logic was the best weapon a ruler could ever have.
I’d lost that the moment I’d touched Prince Thrandur’s skin, and I didn’t know why. That was unacceptable.
Something had happened to me on the beach. My memories of the episode were blurry, but the effects lingered and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t suppress them.
It didn’t take a genius to figure out Prince Thrandur must have had something to do with my state. I should have killed him on the spot for it, and the others, for witnessing my loss of control. They were a liability and a huge potential obstacle for my plans.
I hadn’t. Instead, I’d told them to run and hide, too lost in my new emotions to come up with the natural, logical conclusion.
Gods help me, I couldn’t even figure out why I’d wanted to touch Thrandur in the first place. Unacceptable.
I needed answers, and if my mother didn’t have any information for me, she would not like the consequences. My head was throbbing and my chest pulsing with a distant pain. A chill had settled in my bones and refused to go away. Or maybe it was heat. I couldn’t tell. It was another thing that had to be addressed, because I highly doubted it was in any way related to the storm I’d unleashed.
As expected, my mother first chose the easiest path, that of pretense and denial. Her breath caught and her eyes widened, but she didn’t provide me with a satisfactory response. “Dahud? What are you talking about?”
Something dark and vicious surged inside me, and I struggled to control it, to leash the slumbering beast that had awakened in my depths. I wouldn’t have normally lost my temper, and I couldn’t afford to do so now. As such, I put on my best blank mask, a surprisingly easy feat, considering the turmoil raging inside me. Once, I had pretended to be able to experience emotion. Now, it was the other way around. I would continue to pretend, because it was necessary to accomplish my objectives. “You know very well, Mother. You’ve always known. Do not play games with me, as I am in no gaming mood.”
My mother’s shoulders slumped, and for the first time in my life, I could see how much the burdens of her secrets weighed upon her. Had those lines of strain always been on her face, and I had missed them? Had that strange look always been in her eyes, and I’d been blind to it? If that was the case, what else had I missed?
“Very well, Dahud,” she whispered. “If that is what you want, I will tell you the truth.”
Despite her promise, she didn’t immediately speak. Instead, she walked to my side and sat on the edge of the bed, scrutinizing my face with an intensity that made something unpleasant stir in my gut.
My mask must’ve convinced her, because she sighed and turned away. “The truth is, Dahud, you were cursed. Your father and I… We made enemies. When you were born, we were so very happy and we loved you so much that our foes saw you as a target. They placed a horrible enchantment on you. We never found out how it was done, but we do know that its consequences crippled your ability to feel.”
I hated that word. ‘Crippled’. It implied that I was inferior, when I knew I wasn’t. I couldn’t afford to be, not if I wanted to take the throne from my father and build an empire that rivaled the power of Rome.
On the other hand, if she was right, it did mean that something had been taken from me, which left me incomplete. Was a person who couldn’t feel even a person? If I didn’t truly understand the people, could I lead them the victory?
Wait… That didn’t matter anymore, did it? The whole reason why I’d asked this of my mother was because I could feel. These strange sensations—the things that were assaulting me and I couldn’t define—were a consequence of my meeting with the three mysterious men who were supposedly competing for my hand.
Had Prince Thrandur accidentally removed the curse? If the rumors of his parentage were true, and his father was indeed the son of Odin, perhaps his natural magic had managed to free me of the chains that bound my mind and my heart.
It made sense, but I still decided to ask my mother about it. “And how can this enchantment be broken?”
“I’m not sure it’s possible to break it,” my mother replied gently. “We managed to catch the culprits, but they refused to reveal the method they used. Executing them did not work. We tried everything else, but…”
She trailed off, perhaps not wanting to go into detail about her failure. I didn’t mind it, since she clearly didn’t have any further information for me. Maybe my parents truly believed my condition was irreversible or maybe they didn’t, but either way, I needed to reassess my priorities and plans.
“Thank you for telling me, Mother. Now, would you mind giving me a moment alone? I need to think on this.”
By ‘a moment’, I meant ‘as much time as possible’, but it would have been rude and inappropriate to just chase her off. Fortunately, my mother understood the underlining meaning of my words and didn’t push me further. “Of course, Dahud. I will speak to you in the morning. Do not worry about it too much. You can still be happy, despite the curse.”
The absurdity of her response rendered me mute. Surely, she realized my lack of emotions would’ve made me unable to ever experience either happiness or concern. Then again, she had admitted she wasn’t sure how the curse worked, so maybe she did not realize the true extent of my former disability.
“Of course, Mother,” I answered. “Have a good night.”
She kissed my forehead and got up, and as I watched her go, I couldn’t help but wonder what she’d have thought had I told her the truth. Would she have been relieved? Would she have been happy or concerned? Logic stated that she would rejoice in the knowledge of my freedom, but on the other hand…
On the other hand, what? What was this feeling? Why had I kept the truth from her?
I couldn’t think about this now. I needed… I needed logic, something that made sense.
An image of Thrandur, Halvar, and Mathias flashed through my mind. I owed them. If my mother’s words were true, Prince Thrandur had healed me from a horrible affliction. Meanwhile, Mathias had saved my life when my magic had rebelled against me. Perhaps it had been the curse’s last-ditch effort to destroy me, but because of Mathias, it had not worked.
I bit my lower lip, carefully going over my options. For such a great service, the only acceptable reward was marriage. But Prince Thrandur did not want to marry me at all. He loved his wolf warrior, Halvar. Mathias might be interested, although he had been strangel
y vague about it when the other two had asked. And then, there was the tournament. I couldn’t just cancel the already organized competition and say that I’d made my choice after just one day.
Where did that leave me?
The competition might not be that much of an issue if Mathias and Halvar were as skilled as Thrandur was. In fact, it might work in my favor, since my gratitude toward them didn’t change my necessity for a strong husband. If they failed to impress during the tournament, I’d have to find another solution to recompense them.
But if they did prove themselves like I suspected they would… Perhaps I could marry all of them?
Why not? I was a princess, and my father wouldn’t deny me my request. I could always force matters if he tried, although that might bring about some complications which I’d prefer to not stumble into. It shouldn’t be that much of an issue anyway. It wasn’t that unusual for men to share a woman. As far as I knew, the practice was widespread among the native population of the Britannic Isles. Why shouldn’t I be able to follow their example?
Yes, such an arrangement would be perfect. It would allow Thrandur and Halvar to be together like they wished, while still giving Thrandur the chance to have an heir and a position appropriate to his previous station. Their relationship wouldn’t be a problem. If I had children from more than one man, it would be encouraged as long as the men in question were known to be strong warriors. That would also work well with the reward I owed Mathias for saving my life.
Nodding to myself in satisfaction, I began to make a plan on how to approach my future husbands again. After all, my carefully prepared scheme would fall apart if they didn’t agree to cooperate, or if, gods forbid, they lost the tournament.
* * *
Halvar
The next day
“Stop being so nervous. I don’t think your combatant is that much of a challenge.”
I glowered at Mathias, wondering how in the world we’d ended up sticking together after the episode on the beach. He just hadn’t left our side and we hadn’t told him to go, and now, here we were. “It’s not that he’s a challenge. It’s just… difficult to explain.”
